Work Hard For Me
by janjampng
Summary: Grimmjow's emotionally detached from everything. He's rich and he gets what he wants when he wants it, but Ichigo's the first to make him work for something. GrimmIchi.
1. The Routine

**_yo it been a while! i took the time to plot this out and i gotta say i have things planned for this fic, but i dont know when ill get around to it. id like to thank honeyMellon and_** ** _ShadowThorne for their amazing fics because i took inspiration from them for this fic._**

 _ **this is kinda more of a prologue than a chapter, but feel free to leave feedback! its always welcome and appreciated.**_

 _ **EDIT: PLEASE READ! i fixed the currency because i forgot that this story is set in japan lmao- so instead of $50 its**_ ** _¥5,000. sorry for the notification to those of you that followed this story im working on it right now as we speak i swear! thanks!_**

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **THE ROUTINE**

 _Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep bee-!_

A heavy hand slammed the snooze button on the annoying digital alarm, amber irises cracking open to glare at the too bright red numbers. Tangerine locks were mussed, but nothing a hat couldn't fix. He let his eyes close for a moment, a deep sigh leaving the man's chest.

 _3:00AM._

Have you ever heard the expression about ' _carrying the world on your shoulders_ '? Well, it wasn't the world, but it sure felt like it. Ichigo's day started at 3:00AM. He would wake up and make sure breakfast was made, his sisters lunches packed and their alarms set for them to wake up in time for school. Then, he would pack all his uniforms he washed the prior night and head off to his first job. At the bus station, he would wiggle into his first uniform by 4:00AM and begin his route at 4:15AM.

When he pulled into the last station of his route and switched places with the afternoon driver at noon, Ichigo would change into to his second uniform. A delivery guy for Unagiya Deliveries until 6:00PM, when he would again, switch uniforms. By 6:30PM, he was a busser for Kageyoshi, a highly upstanding restaurant in the city. This job held him captive until 11:00PM, though he usually got home around 12:00AM because of the walk home and the rare times he would stay late and help close. His sisters tried not to cause him too much stress, because they knew he had too much on his plate already, but he trusted them to do their school work and come home safely. If they weren't asleep by the time he got home, he would usually scold them, but they were good kids.

After checking his sisters, Ichigo would wash his uniforms and crash. Then, rinse and repeat.

 _...It wasn't always this way._

Ichigo could still hear his sister's cries when their father passed away. Isshin had been a great father and worked himself bone tired everyday at the hospital, but in the end his life had withered away just like anyone else's. For a while, Ichigo believed that no matter how much you tried the world would find a way to bring you down and in the back of his head, behind all his duties and worries, he probably did still believe that. Except now he took his sisters lives into consideration. Before their old man had bit the dust, Ichigo had been a successful college student studying in medicine to follow in his father's footsteps. It just seemed right to do so. He didn't want to be a doctor- but what other choice did he have?

He regretted that soon enough, though. Going to college to become a doctor was expensive, and it would take too long. He didn't have the money nor the time to continue his studies, so he dropped all his classes. Yuzu and Karin- his sisters- had told him they would drop out of Highschool to get jobs as well, but he refused to let them. He would carry their burdens just like how their father had. He was their caretaker now.

 _He would carry the world on his shoulders if it meant his sisters got to live their lives in peace._

 **-o0o0o-**

"Grimmjow-sama, your father has requested you to meet him in his office in ten minutes. Will you be awake by then?" Grimmjow groaned at the sound of Shawlong's smooth tenor, burrowing further into the plush mountain of pillows that were scattered among his bed. These pillows moved, however, and they were accompanied by even, slow breaths; which made him growl. Seriously? This bitch hadn't left during the night like they'd arranged? And now he was _cuddling_ with her?

Grimmjow lifted his face from the soft mounds that belonged to the woman he'd picked up the night before. She was alright, but she had agreed to his terms and here she was, in all her naked glory. Still. In. His. Fucking. Bed. Shawlong cleared his throat, but remained quiet, still waiting for a response.

"Yeah, yeah. Let 'm know I'll be up in twenty." The blue haired man grumbled in response, lifting his body from the bed to make his way to his adjoined bathroom. The tall butler bowed as he walked by, not bothered by Grimmjow's lack of clothing. "Yes, Grimmjow-sama. Shall I bring breakfast for your guest?" Grimmjow snorted at Shawlong's inquiry, a filthy grin splitting his features in two. Vivid, cruel eyes flickered to the clock near his rooms entrance, before returning to his butler.

 _11:03AM._

"Nah, just call security. I want her gone before 'm done with my shower."

"Yes, Grimmjow-sama."

 **-o0o0o-**

 _2:36PM._

Ichigo tipped his hat to the elderly woman that climbed aboard the bus, smiling politely as she gathered her change for the bus fare. Only two more hours to go, then he could run to his next job and hope it was a slow day at the delivery agency. It was Tuesday, so he would be working the shift with Chad.

All the drivers carried a phone that acted like a walkie-talkie, so they could communicate to the other drivers during their shifts. Ichigo waved to the two young boys that climbed aboard with their mother and thanked her as she paid for the fare when he heard a beep from the device hooked onto his belt. He frowned, thinking of all the drivers that were on the shift with him today and concluding he never really talked to any of them. It was strange that they'd be contacting him rather than waiting for the end of the shift, when Ichigo would stand and listen to them gripe in the employee room for a few minutes before he was off to his other job.

He unlatched the walkie-talkie and pressed the blinking red button, leaning into the mic as he turned the corner onto the next street. "Yo, Kurosaki here." He mumbled, trying to keep his voice down as to not disturb the passengers.

"Hey, Kurosaki. You're in for a real treat when you get to Kinogaya and Mitsumiya." A rough growl came through the speaker, making him raise an eyebrow. Madarame? What the hell was he talking about? Ichigo pursed his lips as he slowed the bus down when he reached the next stop. "What're you talking about, Madarame? You're creepin' me out." Ichigo replied, greeting the people at the stop with a smile despite his worries.

"Haha! Well, I wouldn't say a treat. This guy's kinda an ass." Madarame continued, a mysterious chime in his voice. "Anyway, I'll leave you alone. Hope that guy don't try to give you a big ol 5,000 bill for what it's worth. Madarame out." The call ended abruptly, making Ichigo blink dumbly at the makeshift phone before he placed it back on his belt, the streets Madarame had given him repeating in his head over and over again ominously.

Kinogaya and Mitsumiya. He'd be there in thirty minutes, maybe less.

Who in their right mind tried to pay for bus fare with a _5,000_ bill, though? That was just completely inconsiderate.


	2. Not Your Sweetheart

_**PLEASE READ! ! heyooo! i'd like to start with that i corrected the currency from usd to yen! just a minor change from the last chapter, grimmjow paid with ¥5,000 not $50. im american trash that forgot other currencies exist aside from american bills lmao**_

 _ **second thank you for waiting! i kinda wanna establish a posting schedule for this like maybe an update very week or every sunday idk ill come up with something or i wont but thank you for sticking around! thanks for waiting! !**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **NOT YOUR SWEETHEART**

A curt knock shattered the peaceful pitter patter of water hitting sleek, granite ebony tiles. Cyan eyes opened lazily, staring with a raised brow at the door through the foggy glass doors of the shower he currently occupied. It couldn't be anyone other than Shawlong on the other side of the threshold, everyone else knew not to bother him when he was- well, no one ever really bothered Grimmjow. When your parents owned and ran their own company that made at least millions each second of the day, being the son of these two successful beings came with a few perks.

Everything- literally _everything_ Grimmjow laid his eyes on was his. If the money in his endless account wasn't enough, his charms certainly were. He could sly talk his way out of any sticky situation and persuade anyone into his chambers, it was almost like magic. Grimmjow let a low chuckle tumble from his lips, hands moving with swift movements to squeeze a generous amount of conditioner into his palm before he began slathering it into his hair.

People were ants compared to him. It was rather comical when others bowed and treated him formally, Grimmjow felt like a King occasionally, and to further stroke his ego he didn't even have to acknowledge them to get the treatment he received. He could treat them like dirt and they'd still scurry to his side to fill any request to keep him content, though just seeing their anxious faces and shaking bodies was enough to please him.

Not realizing he'd lost himself in his musings, Grimmjow was brought back to reality at the sound of the door creaking open slowly. He ignored it and continued to wash his body, and although Grimmjow would never admit that he had a serious case of narcissism, who could blame him? His skin was a healthy tan, stretched taut over the ridges and smooth planes of muscles and his hair was commercial ready at all times. Hell, he could walk out of this shower with damp and messy hair and still manage to look handsome. His teeth were blinding white, facial hair kept trimmed and neat. His charm was one thing, but he didn't even have to open his mouth to get women and men swooning over him.

"Grimmjow-sama, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but your father grows impatient. It's been almost half an hour since he called for you." As he'd expected, Shawlong's calm voice echoed in the large bathroom, a tinge of disappointment in his tone. Grimmjow's version of a quick shower was perhaps not as quick as he thought it was, because it only felt like five minutes ago his butler had awoken him from his slumber. "While I am here, do you need anything, sir?" Shawlong continued, remaining outside of the doorway. While everyone else treated Grimmjow with forced respect, sometimes he believed Shawlong enjoyed his job of what was essentially babysitting Grimmjow, but it wasn't a big deal. Shawlong got paid well and was treated like a part of the family.

"Hn. Y'sure it's been more than thirty? Doesn' feel like it." Grimmjow droned, rolling his head around as he let the water wash away the suds. "Yes, Grimmjow-sama. He said to tell you he would come down to your room if you made him wait a full hour." Grimmjow let out a loud sigh at the black-haired man's words, rolling his eyes before roughly raking his hands through his hair.

"Tch. What a drama-queen. M' almost done 'ere, so I'll be there soon. Tell him to keep his panties on." And with that, Shawlong monotonously replied and closed the door with a quiet click. Grimmjow wasn't in the mood to hear his father's bitching this early in the morning, so he finished his shower and went to find something to wear as he was drying his hair, leaving his sizeable package open to the crisp air of his room. Grimmjow didn't realize his bed was empty and made, as he'd already forgotten about the woman he'd fucked the night before.

Grimmjow pulled on a pair of dark, stone washed jeans that hugged his legs comfortably and then decided on a gray button up shirt rather than a t-shirt, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. As for shoes, he slipped on his pure white, Christian Louboutin high-top sneakers. These were his babies, and if anyone of low status were to purchase these shoes they'd probably never want to wear them and risk damaging the "expensive" shoes. To him, they were just a few pretty pennies. To complete the look, Grimmjow clasped a gold watch to his wrist, a Master Ultra Thin Moon watch, to be precise. It was indeed pricey, and the damn thing honestly had so much useless shit on it- like the stupid moon phases- when all he needed was the time. The only reason he wore the fucking thing was because his mother had bought it for him and threw a fuss whenever he didn't wear it.

The billionaire bypassed a mirror, instead threading his fingers through his hair to at least attempt to tame the naturally wild, damp locks as he made his way through the seemingly endless halls. A few of the servants- _what else was he supposed to call them when their job description was to serve him?_ \- bowed as he walked past them, bidding him a 'good morning' and 'you look well'. If he were to be honest, he nearly screwed all the servants, except for the old wrinkly ones that had been raising him since he was in diapers. That would just be plain disgusting.

Finally, Grimmjow made it to the ridiculously enormous doors of his father's office, reaching out to doorknob when the handle moved inward, revealing his old man.

Grimmjow's felt his lip curl involuntary, and Conroy Jaegerjaquez's expression mirrored his instantly. They were the spitting image of each other, except Grimmjow's physique was about a few inches shorter than Conroy, and the light blue hairs that littered the older mans chin were absent on Grimmjow's. Hardened, icy blue irises peered into nearly identical cerulean eyes, dulled with age and wisdom.

"Ey, Old man. What's shakin'?" A vein pulsed above Conroy's left eyebrow, his forehead wrinkling as his brows formed an angry 'V' shape.

"Old man? That's all you have to say to me after you made me wait for nearly an hour? My patience grows thin every time I even think about you. Let alone the fact that you have nothing to show for yourself!"

 _Ah. This again._ True, Grimmjow hadn't really accomplished anything like his parents had. I guess you could say he was bumming off of them but could you blame him? Why did he have to do anything when he could just ride on his parent's success? Even if they died, their fortune would be enough to last him to live out his life comfortably. That was rather shallow when you thought of it, wasn't it? _Oh well._

"So what do you want me ta do, Pops? You're always complain' but I don't see you dishin' out any solutions." Grimmjow hissed back, shouldering his way into his father's grand office. Conroy slammed the door once he'd entered, quickly stomping after him as Grimmjow made his way to the large floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around two of the walls. The office was on the very top floor of their mansion, in the front right corner which allowed the windows to overlook entire property. If the endless security cameras set up around their home didn't catch something, his father's stone like eyes would. The mansion was very modern, sharp and smooth structures making up majority of the place, though in some rooms there were old, golden chandeliers that warmed up the interior. Grimmjow liked those rooms the best. They were more inviting, and he definitely preferred them to the void, empty white rooms that were scattered among the manor.

"-and I won't stand for it any longer! You are going to make something of yourself! I will not have a worthless bum take over my company! Do you hear me, Grimmjow?!"

...Had his father been talking this whole time? And what was burning? Grimmjow turned away from the pleasing outdoor view, focusing on his father. The man was in a fine pressed, black suit with a dark, navy blue button up shirt, the gray tie around his neck loose. That was normal, his attire was never anything less. The smell was coming from the white stick clenched between thick fingers, a silver ring on the man's thumb. Conroy didn't smoke often, his wife made sure of it.

"Yeah. Loud and clear." Grimmjow rumbled, though he probably hadn't and he might have missed the whole purpose of his father's lecture. Conroy's polished shoes tapped annoyingly, the man's strong arms crossing over a broad chest.

"Well?" His father barked, his face growing red. _Oh- he was pissed._

"-...Yeaaahhh?"

Conroy breathed in deeply, placing the still burning cigarette between his lips when suddenly his eyes bulged and he lunged forward, taking a hold of his son's shoulders and shaking him violently. "Get your ass to town then, you _nuisance_!" He was practically screaming in Grimmjow's face, though the younger man merely blinked at him, looking un-amused at his father's tantrum. "I want a call from the college that you've signed up for next semester by tonight, Grimmjow! Is that clear?!" Conroy began pushing his only son towards the exit of his prized office, ignoring the protests from said boy.

"You want me to _what-_!"

But it was too late. The doors were closed with a loud bang in Grimmjow's face, and only then did the young man show any sign of emotion, fuming and kicking the large wooden entryway separating him from the infuriating man he called his father. Speaking of the man, he chose to speak at that moment, laughter in his voice. "And don't even think of making Shawlong do it! I've given him explicit orders to ignore any calls from you since _I_ am the one paying him, after all!" Grimmjow's eyebrow twitched, a yell of frustration ripping from his lips as he punched the door, stomping away with a low growl. The nerve of this man. As if he was going to go apply at a damn college. The only one in the area was in the town next to the city he lived in, and he was not going into that rinky-dink, low class, _smelly_ town.

 _He'd just go back to his room. Fuck that old fart._

With his mind made up, Grimmjow began stomping back to his quarters, but when he turned the corner he nearly bumped into the unfortunate soul that happened to cross his path after an argument with his father. Ready to scream his rage at the maid, he sucked in a heavy breath, but that same breath caught in his throat not a second later. The person blocking his way was his mother, Ada Jaegerjaquez. It was funny, her name meant 'joyful', but the woman was anything but that. She was as hard as a brick wall, colder than her husband and had both Conroy and Grimmjow wrapped around her finger. Anything she said went. No if's and's or but's about it.

"Grimmjow. You seem to be in rush, where are you going, my child?" Ada's Japanese was still rough, and most of the time she preferred to speak in German, though Conroy always insisted that they all speak Japanese since they were in Japan, just like when they were in America they spoke English. Grimmjow knew a little French himself, but his mother wasn't interested in French and his father exclaimed it was a pussy language. Grimmjow couldn't agree more, he only learned the language to lure a particularly gorgeous French girl into his arms when they had gone to Paris for a business meeting.

" _To my room. Father's smoking again, by the way._ " Grimmjow spoke in German, which made his mother give him a soft, yet chilly smile, though the smile wilted when Grimmjow snitched on his father. Ada's eyes were a dull hazel, sometimes gray in the right lighting. Her blonde hair was tied up in her usual tight bun, attire consisting of a gray pencil skirt and a matching, form fitting blazer. She wore the same midnight blue dress shirt as her husband, black tights covering her legs and high heels occupying her feet. Together, Ada and Conroy were a terrifying pair, a couple you wanted on your side lest they sink your business and pick the fruits of your labor.

" _It's fine. You most likely stressed him out, am I right?_ " When his mother spoke in her native tongue, her words were like the crack of a whip, sharp and quick. Grimmjow avoided her icy glare, rocking back and forth on his heels.

" _Wouldn't be stressin' him out if he didn't boss me around._ " Grimmjow replied, meeting his mother's eyes for a split second before he decided the blank wall to his right was very interesting.

" _What did you two buffoons argue about this time, hm? Would you rather I go ask your father or get your side of the story first?_ " She continued, leaning into his line of sight. Grimmjow pondered over this, sighing to himself and mumbling under his breath in French. " _Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. You will not speak to me in that language if you know what is good for you._ "

" _I said he want's me ta go an' apply for college, alright? Jeez._ " He wanted to leave because now his mother was going to insist that he go. Scratch that- she was going to _make_ him go. " _Grimmjow! What's wrong with that? It's not like you have anything else to do, hm? Unless you also have a company to run?_ " She was beaming now, the idea of her boy attending college to become a successful business man bringing light to her eyes. That was a rare look, though it didn't change Grimmjow's view on going to college.

" _Don't wanna go._ Just drop it." Grimmjow switched back to Japanese at the end of his sentence, moving to walk around his mother when a small hand grabbed his bicep, dragging him back with an abnormal amount of strength. He froze for a split second, unable to look away from his mother's mossy hued eyes, which were narrowed, pale blonde eyebrows arched dangerously.

" _You will not speak to me that way._ " Ada's voice was taut with anger, almost sounding like a growl due to her continuing to speak in German. " _Listen here. You're father and I want what's best for you. We want you to be just as successful as we are, and we will not let your run this company into the ground._ " Her thin, manicured nail was poking his chest repeatedly, making Grimmjow's expression twist into a deep scowl. " _You will be attending college to at least get your life on track, seeing as you've done nothing with yourself since you graduated from High School._ "

See what he meant? Sometimes Grimmjow really wanted to-

" _Are you not fluent in your native tongue, Grimmjow?_ "

Grab that skinny neck and-

" _Strange. You always have something to say. Have you run out of petty comebacks?_ "

Squeeze until those damn eyes popped out of her skull-

" _Are you ignoring me?_ " Ada's tone was raising in pitch, which meant she was going to start screaming in the next five seconds. Pushing aside his murderous thoughts, Grimmjow scoffed and nodded, shrugging off his mother's arm. This action earned him a hiss from the woman, and if this had been Grimmjow from a few years ago, he would have flinched. This woman used to beat him senseless if she didn't get her way, and her father didn't see the problem with her form of discipline, so he never stepped in to stop it. Grimmjow lifted his head, his expression sour, not a speck of fear in his hardened gaze.

"M' not." He spoke in Japanese still, just to spite the woman he called his _mother_. "Just don't think anythin' I have to say will _please_ you at the moment." Heavy sarcasm laced his words, a sneer lifting his upper lip. "If you'd let me go, I'll go to the damn college, alright? Leave me alone." Despite the blondes protests, he continued to walk down the hall, making a quick stop at his room to grab his wallet and keys. Grimmjow had many cars, so he kept all his keys on a rack near his door. He'd pick a random pair every time he was headed out and when he got to the basement where all of his family's cars were kept he'd click the unlock button and head to whichever car chirped. It was rather fun, though today he hoped he'd snagged the Koenigsegg. It was his favorite car.

Once he'd made his way down a flight of stairs and into the cumbersome basement, lady luck seemed to be smiling at him, because the car that lit up was indeed the Koenigsegg. Grimmjow grinned like a kid at the candy store, striding towards the powerful sports car. His fingers lightly grazed the side of the machine once he was in reach of it, the baby blue matte paint feeling cool under his touch. He began to whistle as he pulled the door handle up, taking a step back when the door lifted north automatically to reveal the custom-made black leather seats with blue stitching, everything crisp and clean. Grimmjow slid into the vehicle and pushed the key into the ignition, next reaching for the touch screen embedded in the middle of the wooden dashboard, tapping the button that would close the door.

He sat there for a moment, listening to the car purr while he contemplated his options. He wouldn't have this car if it wasn't for his parents, nor would he have an endless amount of money in his pocket at all times. Grimmjow made a noise that sounded much like the car he was sitting in, except his sounded more annoyed, more primal. Fuck those old fuckers. He'd be greater than them and then some. When they died he'd dance on their fucking graves singing at the top of his lungs with joy. If he had to start here, then he would.

Maybe he was just firing himself up because he hated being told what to do. He secretly wanted to feel like this was his idea, though it obviously wasn't. _Details, details._

Grimmjow shifted the gear into drive and peeled out of the basement, reaching up briefly to press the button hooked onto the visor to open the gates. The roar of the engine was enough to bring a smile to the young man's face as he began scrolling through the radio stations on the touch screen to his left, settling on an American station that played sick R&B beats. Grimmjow lost himself in the music and the city streets that blurred past him, driving past the speed limit without any worries. His parents practically owned this city, no officer would dare pull him over. The tall buildings slowly faded away, and the pristine roads of the city became uneven dirt roads littered with potholes. Grimmjow's lip twitched, though he continued driving, seeing the meek buildings of the town coming up. He slowed down, judging eyes darting around the sidewalks which had groups of gang members walking around like they owned the place. A few turned his way, their eyes lighting up at the sight of his car. Those then turned to the people walking next to them and pointed, mouths forming small 'o's. Grimmjow revved the engine before he sped off, leaving the thugs to eat the dust trail he left behind him.

Suddenly realizing he had absolutely no clue as to where he was headed, Grimmjow frowned, digging around in his pocket for his phone. Azure eyes darted downwards to the device held in Grimmjow's lap, the man's hand keeping the wheel steady as he typed in the college he was looking for. Grimmjow didn't see the red light.

All he heard was a honk coming from his right before everything was spinning, glass flying in every direction, the car bending inwards towards Grimmjow as another vehicle collided with it. He gasped, dropping his phone in favor of gripping the wheel, fruitlessly attempting to take control of the car though it was too late. He continued to spin, crashing into a lamp post with a loud crunch. Grimmjow breathed in, eyes the size of saucers. The shock wore off though, because in the next second the blue-haired male was scrambling to get out of his car, crawling over the dashboard to the passenger seat when his door wouldn't open. White shoes hit the gravel with an audible thump, a cough tearing through the male's throat when smoke flooded his lungs. He waved his hand infront of his face, backing away from his prized baby, crazed, narrowed blue eyes searching for the culprit that destroyed his car.

A man emerged from the other steaming car, hands thrown up in the air as he approached Grimmjow. The man was heavily tattooed, body huge and intimidating, probably a few inches taller than Grimmjow, though this did nothing to stop the latter from stomping up to the other man, sizing him up.

"Dude- what the _fuck_? You passed a red light! Are you colorblind?" The red-haired man screamed, arms waving around wildly. Grimmjow sneered, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he squared his shoulders, leaning into the taller man's personal space.

" _Me?_ My cars bright fuckin' blue, so if you didn't see that in the middle of the intersection and _didn't_ slow the fuck down, you're the colorblind one here, asshole." Grimmjow threw back, tempted to shove the stranger away when he took a step forward. They were nearly chest to chest now, both yelling in each others faces. "Do you even know who I am? I could have your ass arrested with a snap of my fingers. I could sue your ass and take every penny you have but I bet it wouldn't even be worth it, if that excuse of a car you were drivin' is any indication."

The man's face turned as red as his hair, teeth bared before he took a deep breath, releasing it along with the building tension in his shoulders. He seemed to be forcibly calming himself down, teeth practically grinding together as he spoke.

"Y'know what, police sounds nice, tough guy." The man spoke, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone, a curse tumbling from tanned lips at the cracked screen. He ignored it, tapping the screen a few times before he straightened, a white screen displayed before him. "What's your name? Insurance company?"

Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter, resisting the urge to bend over and grab his knees to steady to himself. Instead, he shook his head, a filthy grin overtaking his features. "Jaegerjaquez. Does Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez ring any bells?" The man actually began typing, as if taking notes before he stopped. At first, Grimmjow thought the guy was seriously going to ask him how to spell his last name when wide, mahogany eyes slowly lifted to lock with his. Oh god, that look was _rich._

"J-Jaegerjaquez? As in- the company?" The stranger gulped, obviously realizing the deep shit he was in. Grimmjow's didn't offer any vocal approval, instead his grin only grew in length. "Oh- I, uh-" The man was stuttering now, all the anger that had been boiling the man's blood a few moments ago frozen, his body language showing crippling, delightful fear.

"You got it, baby. Remember what I said earlier? About suing your ass?" Grimmjow hummed, chuckling when the redhead nodded, fingers still poised over the keyboard of his shattered phone. "M' feelin' generous, so I think I'll let you off the hook." Grimmjow patted the stranger's shoulder, feeling the man flinch. "All you gotta do is call the tow truck and we'll call it even, hm?" He squeezed the muscled shoulder in his grip, patting once more when the man nodded swiftly before he shoved the meathead away. Grimmjow walked back to his wrecked car, glaring at the bypassers that were all gathered near the scene with varying looks of shock and worry, which caused some to tear their eyes away and continue walking. He climbed back into the still fuming car, feeling around for his wallet and phone, then he backed back out, dusting off his pants.

Surprisingly enough, Grimmjow's phone was undamaged, deft fingers scrolling through his list of contacts to find Shawlong's name. Just as he was going to hit the button and call his butler, his thumb paused, hovering over the stoic man's name as his father's words echoed in his head.

Shawlong wouldn't pick up, would he? Grimmjow shook his head and tapped the name before he lifted his phone to his ear, waiting as it dialed. Shawlong picked up within three rings, never more. _Ring. Ring. Ring._ Grimmjow began talking, already expecting the loyal butlers indifferent voice to be floating through the receiver, "Shawlong. Come get me from the-" But he was cut off by a sharp beep, then a voice mail that consisted of Shawlong's soft tenor, requesting that a name and reliable number that he could call back be left in the voicemail. Nearly crushing the phone in his grip, Grimmjow ended the call before the voicemail was over, cursing under his breath in German. _Now what?_

Grimmjow's foot began to tap, much like his father earlier that morning when they'd had their argument. The young man's eyes traveled to his once beautiful car, a frown marring his features. He could always get a new one, it wasn't a problem, though it was still depressing to see such a beautiful machine in this state. Surprisingly enough, both he and the stranger had walked away from the car accident mostly unscathed. A few parts of his body were stinging, and he probably had a few cuts from the glass of his windows. His neck felt sore and tight, and every time he craned his neck it caused a sharp bolt of pain to shoot up to his temple, which was throbbing. For the most part, Grimmjow was fine, and the other man had seemed to be in the same condition as him. It wasn't like he was going to see that man ever again, so he didn't really bother with observing the other's condition.

With a sigh, Grimmjow carefully looked around, trying not to jar his neck too much as he looked for street names. He supposed he'd call a taxi, scrolling through the options provided to him by his phone. His father would be pissed, but he could go to the damn college anytime to apply. He sure as hell wasn't going now that he'd been a fucking car accident, that was just absurd.

A taxi number popped up on his screen, which he considered, walking in the direction of the streets he'd typed in. It wasn't like he'd never been in a taxi, he just didn't trust them all that well. The drivers were often snobby or very suspicious, and Grimmjow doubted the cameras or security boasted on the window stickers was true. He nearly walked into a bench, the concrete chair causing him to look up at what seemed to be a bus stop. There were a couple of people near the bench, some on their phones while some conversated with each other. Grimmjow turned his eyes back to his phone, extending his search to bus routes. He was supplied with various routes to return home, all of the buses listed as numbers. The shortest route coincidentally included the bus number of the stop he was currently standing at, from there he would ride it to Karakura Station and get on an express bus that went straight into the city.

This seemed self explanatory enough, and it would be amusing to see how everyday citizens got around. The bus would be coming in about ten minutes anyway, so he might as well stick around. Grimmjow passed the time by fiddling with his clothes and shirt, trying to look less like he had been in a car accident.

When the bus rolled forward, a wave of dust and heat washed over Grimmjow's face, causing him to snarl and squint his eyes. A line had formed while he was preoccupied with the offending bus, making Grimmjow roll his eyes and step behind a girl chattering noisily with her friend. Grimmjow waited impatiently, finally stepping up to the driver who looked like he hated his job. He was bald and had small beady eyes, a permanent scowl wrinkling his face. His name tag read Madarame, and had a little number near the bottom probably indicating how many years he had been working as a bus driver. Five years? Grimmjow suppressed the urge to whistle.

"Ey, buddy. I need your fare or else I can't leave." The man's voice was strident and strict, a tone that made Grimmjow bristle. It reminded him of his father, honestly. Nonetheless, Grimmjow pulled out his wallet, sifting through large bills.

"Whatever. How much is it?" Grimmjow mumbled, continuing to flip through his wallet. He heard a small chuckle from the driver, almost sounding like disbelief. The bald man was probably looking at the bills in Grimmjow's leather wallet, wondering why on earth this guy was taking the damn bus considering all the money he had.

"180 yen." Madarame replied, which made Grimmjow's brows furrow. There wasn't a thousand ticked onto that, so he was sure this man really wanted him to produce coins. Grimmjow looked up, his expression unreadable. The smallest bill he had was 5,000, though he was sure this was fine. He produced the banknote, confused at the reaction it received. The driver snorted, laughter tearing from his throat. Grimmjow retracted his arm, lips pursing.

"Ha! Sorry guy, but I can't accept that. Try again." The annoying bus driver was trying and failing not to snort, and Grimmjow wouldn't be surprised if tears began to track down his face.

"S'all I have." Grimmjow growled, thrusting the bill forward again. It was then that the driver sobered, waving his hand in Grimmjow's face in a gesture that was meant to _shoo_ an unwanted presence.

"Guess you're shit outta luck, huh? Beat it, kid." The man laughed, resting his hands on the large wheel in front of him, completely dismissing Grimmjow's presence. Calculating, cerulean irises seemed to dissect the fresh meat in front of them, taking in every detail. Madarame, huh? A loyal driver for five years, too bad he was rude and inconsiderate. It would be easy to get him fired. Grimmjow could just play the guilt card and threaten to sue the company he worked for. With a bad attitude like his, no friendly facade, it would be child's play to turn his supervisors against him.

"Yo. I got a schedule to keep. Mind gettin' off?" Madarame crooned sarcastically, still trying to contain his laughter. The man was clueless to his fate, not knowing that by the end of the day he'd be unemployed. With a deceivingly pleasant smile, Grimmjow nodded, backing out of the bus doors which closed the second he was out, the vehicle speeding away from the curb. Grimmjow watched it go, his eyes happening to land on a sloppily painted sign that advertised food, drinks and more across the street. He supposed he could grab some change and a snack. His mother insisted that they eat healthy every hour of the day, so it'd be nice to get some junk food. She didn't want him to get fat, though with his high metabolism he was positive he didn't have to worry about that.

Grimmjow trudged into the store, raising a brow when a small bell chimed, alerting anyone inside of the inconsequential building of his entrance. Perhaps it served as an alarm, though the billionaire couldn't see why anyone would want to rob this run down place. Shrugging, he let his legs guide him, walking along the shelves stuffed with food. He turned down the next aisle, pausing to grab a bag of shrimp chips, then turning to face the refrigerators lining the back wall. He opened the transparent door, grabbing a bottle of coke. Satisfied with the items in his hands, he walked towards the register, blinking twice at the cashier that certainly hadn't been there before.

The young billionaire walked forward with a slight amount of caution, the cashier's muscular form managing to look intimidating despite the bright red shirt he wore that had the words 'beefy' displayed across his chest in bold white lettering, little ham slices with smiles on them surrounding the text.

Grimmjow placed his food on the counter, looking around while he waited for the man to ring him up. It really was a miniscule space, the paint on the walls were chipping and cracking, and speaking of cracks, he needed more fingers to count how many cracks littered the cheap, plain white tiling. The ceiling was just hurting him to even think about, the water damage and missing ceiling tiles that revealed poorly done wiring, probably the cause of the occasional flicker of the lights.

"Yo, boss, its 410." The cashier's rough voice startled him from his thoughts, Grimmjow raising a brow at the name he'd been called. No one had ever called him that before, though he didn't mind it. He pulled the bill he'd tried to use earlier from his wallet, keeping his eyes locked on the burly man's expression, searching for any sign of a negative reaction. The man simply took the banknote, lifting it to the air under the fluorescent light above his head, nodding before he began getting the change.

"C'n I have some small change?" Grimmjow interjected, causing the cashier to halt his motions for a split second, large hands then continuing to gather the change needed. Those words sounded strange rolling off his tongue, leaving a weird taste in the back of his throat. Once the change was in his hands, Grimmjow nodded and took the black plastic bag handed to him, ignoring the soft 'thank you, come again' from the man.

Grimmjow dug through the bag and pulled his drink free, twisting the cap which hissed in response. He chugged down almost half of the bottle, not realizing he'd been this thirsty while his eyes drifted to his phone held in his other hand, his thumb dragging downwards to refresh the bus information page. Twenty minutes until the next bus, huh? How did these people even get anywhere?

 **-o0o0o-**

Ichigo thanked the man who paid for his family, smiling at the two boys who were gazing up at him in awe, as if he was some type of super-hero. The mother rushed back to grab them, probably not even realizing they'd stayed at the front of the bus rather than following her to take their seats. She apologized, bowing profusely despite Ichigo's reassurance that he wasn't offended by their staring. He waited for them to take their seats, then he continued down Mitsumiya, swallowing the lump in his throat when he realized he was two streets away from Kinogaya. Madarame could have just been fucking with him- the man liked to do so on occasion- though he had a feeling this was one of the rare times he was being serious. Ichigo had hoped there would be people at the stops before he reached the dreaded streets he'd been warned about, but of course there wasn't, which made his arrival much sooner than Ichigo would have liked.

He turned the corner onto Kinogaya, chocolate brown eyes immediately locked on the bus stop ahead of him. A lone, tall and obviously athletic male stood from the bench he'd been occupying. Shocking, electric blue locks were atop the man's head, and when Ichigo pulled the bus to a stop and opened the doors, mesmerizing azure eyes locked with his own, peering deep into his soul. Ichigo blinked and shook his head, attempting to shake himself from his trance. The man was indeed handsome, his hair tousled like a natural mess, a few bruises and cuts on his face and the visible skin of his arms. Upon looking closer, there was a bit of red near the right side of his hairline, indicating that there was probably a wound there. Jesus, had this guy gotten into a brawl?

"180, right?" The man's voice was deep and husky with a hint of an accent, soft and pliant looking lips stroking each syllable like a lover. Ichigo realized he hadn't greeted the stranger, cursing himself mentally.

"Yes, sir. Pardon my rudeness, but is that blood on your forehead?" Ichigo replied, a worried smile blooming on his lips, eyebrows drawing together. His words went ignored, however, by the shake of the handsome man's head, he was sure he'd been heard. Ichigo waited a moment, trying his hardest not to scowl when the man thrusted his fist forward, change clenched in long fingers. "Here," The man groused, looking bored. Ichigo didn't let his smile falter, instead tapping the coin receiver to his left, feeling his brow twitch with annoyance.

"It goes here." The man pulled his hand away, grunting as he slipped the coins into the slot before he turned away, completely dismissing Ichigo. This made Ichigo fume, though he did nothing to stop the passenger, grumbling as he closed the doors and roughly pulled away from the curb. The man hadn't found his seat yet though, and Ichigo looked up at the mirror above him just in time to see him stumble, grabbing one of the many poles in the vehicle to steady himself unless he wanted to kiss the floor. That head of peculiar hair flipped around, matching eyes glaring daggers at him through the mirror, making Ichigo scowl and hold eye contact. The stranger's expression melted into a shit eating grin, those emotionless, sea blue irises harboring something sinister in their depths. Ichigo blinked, effectively ending the stare down, both men looking away, brown eyes focusing on the road while blue stared out the window.

Ichigo could see why Madarame thought this guy was an asshole, though the man seemed to have learned his lesson if him paying in the correct amount of change was anything to go by. The bus driver soon forgot about the man, resuming his routine of smiling and greeting customers, oblivious to the cold eyes scrutinizing his every move.

The bus began to steadily clear out, Ichigo's bus approaching the station which was near the city, and since none of his regulars had any business in said place, he was usually alone at this time. He wasn't now however, and he could feel those eyes boring into the back of his head, making him shift uncomfortably. Ichigo waved to the two elderly women as they shuffled off the bus, realizing that the hot _-but-a-prick_ -stranger and him were only ones aboard the large vehicle.

He gave one last smile to a woman who bid him a good day and told him to say 'hi' to his sisters. Mostly everyone in the small town knew about Ichigo and his family. His father had been the only doctor in the town that seemed to care about his patient's past just their medical needs, so when he had passed many had donated and offered help to Ichigo and his sisters. Once he was on his feet and had a stable income, Ichigo started to accept fewer donations, feeling like he needed to work to earn his keep. Thus, he helped around the town in anyway he could, taking up side jobs when he managed to have any spare time in order to get more money that he could use for other things aside from the bills he paid. When he was lucky enough, he could surprise his sisters with new clothes and little things they mentioned when they ate dinner. A new set soccer cleats for Karin, maybe a few hairpins and jewelry for Yuzu. They were only human, right?

Ichigo didn't realize he was smiling, his expression soft as he thought of his sisters, reminding himself to ask Renji if he could get off earlier than usual tonight. He was sure the redhead wouldn't mind, he only cleaned tables and reset them after guests left the restaurant after all and he wasn't the only busser working on the shift tonight. One of his regulars had given him a recipe that he wanted to try, but it would be pointless to cook dinner just for himself.

"Whatcha smilin' about, Ginger?" That rugged voice from earlier reverberated in his ear, startling him and causing his smile to drop. He blinked, eyes focused on the road, occasionally flickering to his left to see the blue-haired rude man. He didn't reply, knowing he couldn't hold his tongue by the name he'd been called- for fucks sake he had a name tag. Ichigo was tempted to swerve the bus if it meant this bothersome stranger would trip.

"Not gonna say anythin', huh-" The man leaned closer, which in turn Ichigo leaned further away, though he was stuck between the stranger and the window of his little cabin, so eventually the man was almost draped over him, blue eyes searching for something. Ichigo's senses were consumed by the man's cologne, which wafted over him in rich, thick waves. It had to be Old Spice, definitely something sultry and intoxicating. "Hn. Don't got a name tag like the other fucker?"

"What- of course I do-!" Ichigo's eyes strayed from the road, glancing at the fabric above his right breast pocket, which was… bare. Fuck- _had he forgotten his name tag again? Kenpachi was going to kill him-_ "Wait a minute- who are you calling a- the thing you said?" Ichigo stumbled over his words, eyes returning to the streets in front of him.

"Aww can't taint those pretty lips a'yers with dirty language?" Ichigo nearly hit the brakes, craving to see that face plastered on the glass of the windshield.

"It's against policy." He said stiffly, hoping the man would take the hint. Something- maybe his conscience was telling him this guy wasn't good news. When the stranger remained unmoving, Ichigo felt his temple crease.

"Policy? M' guessin' it's against policy to not have a name tag. Yer already breakin' the rules so why you worried now?" There was a smidge of laughter in that husky drawl, and although it made Ichigo's pants tighten, he knew this guy's type just by looking at him. _Charm, fuck, forget._ Now, Ichigo wasn't a prude. He had his fair share of one-night stands, and yeah they'd been alright- but that was the beauty of them. You didn't plan to see that person ever again and you most likely didn't. Not to mention he currently wasn't looking for a relationship because there was no way he could cram that into his busy schedule, so why give in to the temptation if he knew it would only be a hassle for him? It wouldn't be so bad, and it probably would be worth his while because this guy was a sight for sore eyes- but that arrogance was a total turn off.

Ichigo decided to ignore him- maybe he'd buzz off.

That certainly wasn't the best idea.

 **-o0o0o-**

Grimmjow wanted to laugh- this kid was a riot. He was obviously aroused, but he was holding himself back for some reason. Grimmjow laced his trap with a bad boy attitude, setting it in place with a few slyly placed compliments and then he'd reel them in by showing off what most called his luxurious body. Nobody could resist that, not even this kid. This was only the first stage.

"Y'know, whatever your name is, bet it's real cute jus' like you. Wanna help me out here, carrot-top?" Grimmjow lowered his voice a few octaves, leaning in closer. Judging from the conflicting look in those syrupy brown eyes and the occasional nibble on the driver's lower lip- _which was probably a nervous habit_ \- he was close to giving in. "It's jus' your name, sweetheart."

The teeth that held those plump lips captive released the pink flesh, which bounced back into place, the sight making Grimmjow want those lips wrapped around something much more personal. They opened, though no words came out, only a quiet 'uh', accompanied by the redhead shifting in his seat.

"We'll be approaching the station soon. Please take a seat."

Grimmjow blinked for a moment, before he realized he had been effectively brushed off. Icy optics narrowed in confusion, watching the driver intently, because it was very apparent to him that this guy was interested. But no, the redhead simply continued to watch the road, driving as if the confrontation hadn't just happened and if anything, the guy looked uncomfortable. Sure, he had a few late bloomers that were just amazed that he was even talking to them, like the rare nights he'd pick up any soul that looked at him when he was good and drunk and ready to fuck anything that could handle his dick. Of course he'd had uncomfortable temporary-lovers, it didn't take him long to get them out of their bubble and in the same breath he could have them calling his name. But this guy…

 _Wasn't interested?_


	3. You Again?

_**yo! sorry for the wait i had a bunch of dumb projects due plus i got sicky. now that i think about it, i don't think i'll ever really develop a update schedule because when it comes to writing, i can't rush my brain or else it'll turn out poopy u feel me**_

 _ **anywho theres like- brief grimmjow/yylfordt sex. it's kinda important to the story because let's face it grimmjow's basically a player lmao. speaking of grimmjow- he's a real prick! ! !**_

 _ **anyway enjoy!**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **YOU AGAIN?**

The station couldn't have come any faster, because after he'd instructed the man to take a seat, everything had gone eerily quiet and Ichigo could feel those eyes examining him even more than before. Nothing was said, just the sound of the bus humming and gears turning filling the silence. Of course, the stranger didn't move a muscle, staying rooted right next to Ichigo's cabin. Ichigo put on his blinker when he neared the station, waiting for the light to turn green before he continued, finding his assigned stop. He parked the vehicle and opened the double doors, rubbing his hands on his pant legs to wipe off the cold sweat that had started to accumulate on the appendages. It was nearly 3 o'clock, just another drive back to his original station where he would switch places with another driver and be off to the delivery agency. Though he was a little behind schedule for this route, he was sure he'd make it to his second job on time.

His boss, Ikumi, had been a friend of his father. Her delivery agency was family owned, and very small. The pay wasn't the best, but Ichigo worked for her because she desperately needed employees and refused to sell the business. He only worked there for two hours, though that was enough time to make the deliveries for the day. Most people asked him why he hadn't quit yet, why he hadn't taken up more hours than he already had as a bus driver because they definitely paid him well since he'd been with the company for nearly eight years. Or why not more hours at Kageyoshi, where he was also paid better than Ikumi could ever hope to pay him?

The truth was, he'd thought about quitting. Numerous times. He could never bring himself to do so, because he knew Ikumi needed him. Ichigo would be better off without this job, but Ikumi wouldn't- this was all she knew, which was why she wouldn't sell the business no matter how tough it got. Maybe someday he'd gather up the courage, though his father would have done anything to help those around him. It wouldn't sit well in Ichigo's heart.

Lost in thought, he fiddled with his hat, lifting it from his head to pick at the engraved logo of the bus station at the front of the accessory. The action caused his wild hair to spike out, the strands untamable. The only person who could fix his hair was Rukia, and he didn't see her until later tonight. Since his bus would be going back the same way he'd just driven, Ichigo expected the blue-haired man to get off here, but when Ichigo raised his eyes, he was immediately captivated by those dangerous blue orbs. Shit- how long had this freak been staring at him? He was so quiet, Ichigo had assumed he'd already left the bus-

Ichigo froze, a staring contest initiated between them once more because both of them were too stubborn to let the other win, though intoxicating aqua eyes slid away from his first; and then the owner of those eyes was turning away. The bus driver didn't miss the annoyingly attractive smile that tugged at the corners of thin lips, though he wished he hadn't heard what came out of them next.

"Tch, whatever. Your loss, brat."

The bus driver recoiled as if he'd been slapped, mouth falling open in disbelief. Had this guy really just-?

 _Calm down. Breathe. Don't respond. You can't lose this job. You've been with this company for eight years. Almost. One bad review can tarnish everything you've worked so hard for._ Ichigo's knuckles turned white, his grip on the wheel tightening to the point where his fingernails dug into his palms painfully. Beeping from his hip stole his attention however, his movement robotic and stiff as he retrieved his walkie-talkie.

"...Yeah." He murmured, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the blue-haired man, lips suddenly dry. Ichigo turned his eyes up to the keypad above his cabin, reminding himself not to forget to change his bus route number lest he confuse customers by displaying the wrong number. A boisterous voice floated through the receiver, though Ichigo tuned it out, his eyes finding the man once more. Perfectly sculpted shoulders were slumped, and upon looking closer, there was more blood staining the man's collar. A part of him felt that this guy had gotten what he deserved, even though he knew that way of thinking was twisted.

"-but I told him to fuck off, and the pussy didn't say jack shit back haha! Anyway, was that blue-haired asshole still there? What'd he say?" Oh. It was Madarame.

Ichigo was silent, a lump suddenly lodged in his throat. The blood was seeping through the pressed dress shirt, the dark red blotch spreading around his shoulders. Ichigo suddenly felt guilty for his previous thoughts.

"He uh… paid in exact change."

"Really? That's it?" Madarame sounded disappointed, probably expecting some grand tale about the stranger and how he was an asshole and how much Ichigo hated him, though Ichigo couldn't bring himself to do that- especially after he'd just calmed himself down.

"Yeah. He just got off at the station and he's waitin' at the 65. He must be going into the city."

"Wait… the city?" Madarame's tone changed, sounding almost panicked. Ichigo blinked at the device in his hand, wondering if he should be concerned about Madarame or the wounded stranger.

"...Yeah, why? Unless I'm thinkin' of the wrong route he could be going to the Tsubakidai district-"

"No, no shit-! That was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez!

Ichigo paused.

"...Who?"

 **-o0o0o-**

Grimmjow was pouting. Well- pouting was a strong word. He was more so pondering what exactly happened. No one ever turned him down- _ever. Period._ He was usually the one to turn away and have them begging for his attention, fawning over him like he was a _God._ But this guy- he didn't even bat an eyelash. When Grimmjow had first stepped onto the bus, the redhead had been drooling, eyes clouded with lust as he looked Grimmjow up and down. Grimmjow couldn't help but feel smug, and had promptly brushed the other off, which in turn he nearly fell when the bus had precipitously jerked, though he was sure that wasn't an accident due to the look in those fiery eyes. That had made Grimmjow want him even more, it wasn't everyday he got someone that wild and rebellious in bed- those kind of people were the most _fun_ to break.

But to be on the side of the ignoring- it just-... kinda sucked. So yeah, he'd gotten one more jab in, but the look he'd received hadn't been satisfying at all. The redhead had gone stiff and those lively brown eyes had lit with an untamable fire, which could only be described as hate. He really _wasn't_ into Grimmjow.

 _...So he was pouting. Maybe._

The billionaire slumped onto the designated bench for the next bus he needed to catch, regretting the whole ordeal as a list of things he could have done to avoid this flooded his mind. He could have begrudgingly taken a cab, he could have called Shawlong until the man answered, he could have _not_ been texting in driving- he could have stayed home and avoided everything that happened today.

His fucking favorite car had been _totalled._

Grimmjow jiggled his leg, feeling a shudder run down his spine when a warm, wet substance trickled down the nape of his neck. It was probably blood, but that wasn't the only thing that sent a shiver through his body. He could feel something burning into the back of his head, and it couldn't be anything other than the stubborn bus driver's eyes, or maybe he actually hadn't been left unscathed in the car accident which had only happened a few hours ago. He straightened his back, attempting to appear unaffected by the others rejection. A loud hiss sounded in front of him, a bus pulling up to the stop he was seated at. Grimmjow huffed, but rummaged through his wallet for the change needed and boarded the damn vehicle, grunting at the greeting from the driver. He sat down heavily and watched as a few people rose from their seats to leave the bus, some walking towards the redhead. The brat of a bus driver smiled brightly, waving to a few children before his doors closed and he was driving away, and it seemed like he would be driving back the way he'd just came from.

 _Whatever._ This guy may have been the first to turn him down- and he was certainly going to be the last. Grimmjow decided that the brat wasn't worth beating himself up about, all he needed was a good easy fuck to mend his wounded confidence. Picking up his phone again, blue orbs scanned through his contacts, looking over the numerous names displayed. It was rare that he kept someone's number, but there were some people that agreed with his terms, which was having sex with no strings attached. So whenever he was looking for someone easy, he could have them crumbling in his arms with a simple phone call. Grimmjow hummed to himself as he skimmed through the list, stopping to stare at a few names before he shook his head and continued. Finally, he narrowed it down to either a serious, busty dark skinned, blonde babe who went by Tia or an overly flamboyant but sexy, who happened to also be blond man named Yylfordt. Hmm.

He could bang them both. Yylfordt was available at any given time, all he needed was a place and time and he'd be there, though he was clingy occasionally and pretended to be joking when he asked Grimmjow why they weren't a couple yet, the latter knew he was being serious. He was an alright lay.

Tia on the other hand took her job as a secretary for some old fart _way_ too seriously and wasn't available during the day, though she didn't let her emotions get in the way of their love making. Hell, Grimmjow wasn't sure she had any emotions. That was fine. She was more classy however, and on most occasions she preferred to be taken to dinner before they engaged in sexual activity. It was worth it when they got in bed because if she was in a good enough mood she could be extremely kinky and Grimmjow would be a damn liar if he said that wasn't hot.

With this in mind, Grimmjow called a restaurant near his house and reserved a table, of course it wasn't necessary considering his social status but if the table was already booked, Tia couldn't refuse. After that, he phoned Yylfordt and let him know to be ready in the next hour, and the male had enthusiastically snatched up his offer. He'd call Tia later, maybe around the time she got out of work. The rest of Grimmjow's evening was set in stone and nothing would stop him from enjoying it, not his father or mother, nor that stupid snotty brat bus driver. When the last thought ran through his head however, Grimmjow blinked, realizing he hadn't forgotten about the man yet. It didn't take Grimmjow long to filter out the unnecessary things that were irrelevant to him, and the driver certainly was that- so why was he still thinking about him?

 **-o0o0o-**

The rest of his shift flew by, though the conversation Ichigo and Madarame had was still rooted in the driver's head. Madarame had spent the next thirty- yes _thirty_ \- minutes trying to get Ichigo to recognize the name 'Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez'.

" _Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Jaegerjaquez Inc.?" Madarame had practically shrieked._

" _Uh… Is that supposed to mean somethin' to me?"_

" _Jaegerjaquez Inc., as in the company that practically owns the friggin' city and will probably own Karakura in the next few months?"_

" _Nope."_

" _They own all the small companies nearby and control nearly half of the industry in Japan?"_

" _If I say yes will you leave me alone?" Ichigo grumbled, eyes darting up to the mirror above him that showed various looks of disapproval from his customers due to Madarame's loud voice._

" _Kurosaki- you're really not playin' dumb, are you? That kid was the son of the two who own that company and he has a bad reputation for fuckin' up peoples lives if they even look at 'im wrong. Shit- I can kiss this job goodbye."_

" _If this guy was that big of a deal I'm sure I would have heard about him. Maybe you're just confusing him with someone else."_

Madarame held his ground however, and swore up and down his career was over, completely ignoring Ichigo's attempts to cheer him up. This had annoyed Ichigo, so he ended the call with the man and refused to pick back up when his walkie-talkie chimed again. Ichigo stood by his own words as well, certain he'd know who this guy was since he was supposedly such a big deal. Time flew by, and after switching spots with a newbie, sneaking past Kenpachi and Madarame, he grabbed his things from his locker and was off to his second job. He always wore the uniform for his second job beneath his first, which consisted of some brown, knee-length shorts and a white T-shirt that had 'Unagiya Deliveries' printed across his chest. A brown fitted cap was optional, though it quickly became a necessity because of Ichigo's frequent bad hair days.

He arrived in record time, eager to start his shift with Chad. The man had been Ichigo's friend since they were in middle school, and was the most reliable person he knew, aside from Tatsuki. Chad would often watch his sisters if Ichigo didn't have time to come home, never asking for anything in return and genuinely being Ichigo's rock that he could lean on if he ever needed to.

Ichigo wanted his trusted friend's opinion on the strange encounter he'd had today, though Chad never really talked Ichigo was sure he could get a few words out of the quiet man about this. He was probably overthinking it, though maybe this uh… shit what was his name? In less than a few minutes the name had slipped his mind. He remembered what the stranger looked like however so if what Madarame said was true, Chad should know who this guy was. Ichigo walked through the entrance, making his way to the back where Chad would be stocking up the truck with the deliveries they'd be making today, which hopefully wasn't a lot. He paused by the employee room- the guest room of Ikumi's house- tossing his bag in the corner then continued to the loading area, which was just a glorified name since it was just the large garage of _also,_ you guessed it, Ikumi's house. Soft, traditional mexican folk music filled the open room, the only vehicle in the area being the delivery truck. The garage door was open, letting in the sun's natural light and soft breeze. A clank to his left made Ichigo's eyes travel to towards the noise, the cause of it being Chad moving a few boxes stamped with 'handle with care'.

"Yo, Chad." Ichigo greeted, smiling warmly when the larger male lifted his head briefly to give him a soft grunt, accompanied by his own smile. "What's on the list for today?" Ichigo stepped forward and grabbed the other side of the box Chad was trying to lift, hoisting it up with both hands. Together, they side stepped to the back of the truck, climbing up the ramp before carefully lowering the object near the back of the vehicle. _Sheesh_ \- whatever this was, it was heavy enough that Chad couldn't lift it by himself- and not to brag, but this guy was built like a greek God. Ichigo wasn't too shabby on his own, but compared to how fit he was in High School, his body was nowhere near that level anymore. He was starting to get a little chub in place of his once greatly appreciated abs and he'd rather eat a baby rat than admit his age was catching up with him.

"The clipboard is in the truck," Chad finally replied, walking towards another stack of boxes. Ichigo mock saluted and spun in the direction of the old and rickety vehicle, rubbing his hands together as he pondered what was on the list today. Once he was on the driver's side, Ichigo opened the door and sagged into the torn seat, searching for the clipboard which he found in the small compartment between the passenger and driver seat. He scanned the short list, concluding he and Chad would most likely finish today in less than an hour, which left them with time to finish paperwork, and then they could slack off for the rest of the day. Their boss Ikumi would probably yell at them if she caught them lazing about, screeching something on the lines of 'What do I even pay you for?!', but if she saw the place cleared out and all deliveries made first she'd sniff and hold her nose to the ceiling, muttering a sullen 'good work'.

Ichigo chuckled at the thought, keeping the clipboard in his hands as he wandered to the back of the truck where Chad had just disappeared into. "Doesn't seem like much today… Wanna bet we finish in an hour?" Ichigo slid the small wooden board between his ribs and arm, leaning against the slide of the rusty, metal truck. Chad stomped down the ramp, his expression speaking for him. It practically screamed 'go on', and Ichigo laughed, chewing on the inside of his mouth as his eyes traveled to the ceiling in thought. "Loser has to buy rounds tonight at Kageyoshi."

"But you get discounts because you work there." The dark skinned man muttered, looking unimpressed. Ichigo snorted, grinning like a fiend. "Exactly, mi amigo." He chirped, bouncing energetically. Chad shook his head and snatched the clipboard from the redhead when he passed him, reviewing the items on the list with what he'd loaded on the truck. Ichigo trailed after his old friend, jumping on the tips of his toes to see what the larger man was doing, but his efforts were fruitless.

"Sooo… who's drivin' today?" Ichigo inquired, watching Chad's expression closely for an answer. If the man's eyebrows furrowed, then he wanted to drive but didn't want to say so, because he knew Ichigo preferred driving. If one raised and the other remained lowered, that meant he'd rather Ichigo drove for today. When their delivery route happened to trek into the city, he usually let Ichigo take the wheel, knowing Ichigo knew the streets like the back of his hand. The reticent male's expression mirrored the last option, which made Ichigo's grin grow even further. Ichigo loved to drive- he didn't own his own car and driving a truck like this was as close as he was going to get to driving a car since a bus was way different. Chad rummaged in his pocket, pulling a set of keys free which he tossed to Ichigo. The shorter man caught the pair of jingling keys, fist pumping and whispering a small 'yessssssss' under his breath.

The duo finished loading the truck and set off on their route, the vehicle stopping occasionally for Chad to exit the truck and deliver the packages on their list. Ichigo manned the wheel and checked off the list when a delivery was made and soon enough they were in the city, curving through the many streets to company buildings and small businesses. Ichigo relaxed in his seat, resting his elbow on the armrest near the window, forehead tilting into his hand while the other remained on the wheel as a comfortable silence settled between the them. They took turns with the radio station daily, and today was Chad's turn. The larger man usually played music which had vocals of his homeland, loud trumpets and a fast paced beat flowing with the words Ichigo didn't understand. The lyrics were soothing in their own way, some songs having a nice rhythm Ichigo could hum to.

Ichigo slowed the truck when the light at the next intersection turned red, lifting his head from his hand to put that appendage on the wheel while his other lifted the clipboard, scanning the stark, white sheet of paper for the next location. Jaegerjaquez Inc., huh? That sounded familiar- Ichigo felt like he knew that name… It definitely wasn't Japanese and sounded hard to pronounce.

"Ja...Jag? Jaga..jak…u…? What the fuck?" Ichigo was too frustrated to notice the light was now green, only looking up when he heard a honk from behind him, in which he practically flung the clipboard towards Chad and hit the gas. He felt his face flush with embarrassment when the car behind his own passed him on his right and yelled profanities, flipping him the middle finger. Ichigo wanted to sink in his seat because he knew Chad was staring at him, and the larger man would probably mumble something on the lines of 'Do you wanna switch?', or , 'Don't get lost in your head when you're driving, Ichigo.' The redhead's eyes flickered to the left, catching Chad looking out the window, his expression unreadable as always.

"Is something bothering you, Ichigo?" The quiet man spoke, gaze remaining out the window. Chad didn't waste words, and he could read Ichigo like an open book printed with large print. The point of the matter was- he knew when something was up and could pry it out of Ichigo without any issue. Ichigo swallowed thickly, remembering he wanted to talk with Chad earlier, but had gotten sidetracked as soon as he walked into the building. He was ashamed to admit he couldn't remember much of what he was going to say, thumbs tapping nervously on the wheel in his grip. He turned the corner, keeping the address scribbled next to the strange name in mind. Chad turned his head away from the window, a lone, chocolatey brown eye peering at Ichigo in question when the shorter male remained silent.

Ichigo's lips pursed. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, because frankly he'd forgotten the name of the asshole that had been bothering him earlier. He was never good at remembering names, and just because some arrogant prick with an ego the size of China waltzed into his life didn't mean he was going to start now. Ichigo let out a hefty sigh, returning to his position from earlier, cheek resting in his hand. "Well, I know I wanted to tell you about this ass I ran into on the bus, who turned out to be some big shot or somethin' according to Madarame." He began, eyes narrowing. "But I got distracted and now I can't remember his name."

Chad hummed in response, indicating he wanted Ichigo to continue. The latter resisted the urge to sigh again, because he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say. The guy was a friggin' prick and he was _very_ attractive, but the fact that he knew that made his ego inflate like a balloon. "Shit, Chad, I don't know- I mean he was really hot?" Ichigo blurted, looking exasperated. The brown haired man shook his head, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "How can he be… attractive but also be someone you hate?" Chad replied, laughter in his voice. Ichigo wanted to pout, his eyes locked on the road, because if he were to see his childhood friend smiling right now he'd probably get pissed off.

"I don't- shit, he knows he's hot that's why he's an asshole!" The muscular man chortled quietly, placing the clipboard in his lap before reaching over to pat Ichigo's shoulder reassuringly, though because the man found humor in this, it didn't feel like reassurance like the other man intended. It felt like the other male was patronizing him, but Ichigo knew he wasn't. "There's no shame in having confidence about yourself, Ichigo." Chad rumbled, removing his hand to grab the clipboard that had been thrown into his lap. He scanned over the list, feeling his eyebrows furrow at the name Ichigo seemed to be having trouble pronouncing.

"Hm… Jaegerjaquez?" Ichigo heard his neck snap from how fast his head whipped around to blink frantically at his companion, who had apparently just pronounced the extremely complicated name Ichigo was having difficulties with. Ichigo took a moment to search for his jaw which he'd lost in his awe, grumbling to himself about how unfair it was. Chad simply smiled, the Mexicano music filling the silence between them. The windows were rolled down because Ikumi refused to fix the old trucks air conditioning, though Ichigo preferred the wind breezing past them as they drove on the highway, the wind-pressure making his eyes water slightly. Now that he'd heard the name, Ichigo felt like he knew it, though he wouldn't dare attempt to pronounce that monster again.

Ichigo navigated through the city and soon enough they arrived at a large, eerily ominous building. The driveway was large and circular, wrapping around a gorgeous fountain in the center, which was surrounded by healthy grass and beautiful, white petunias. Ichigo drove on the curved driveway until he reached a set of stairs which led up to the massive building, a shadow casted over the delivery men, the sun blocked out by the tall structure. Although it was ridiculous, Ichigo was intimidated by the sheer size of the building. He stuck his head out the window, craning his neck uncomfortably before he ducked back inside of the truck, turning unsure toffee hued eyes in the direction of Chad. The dark skinned man was giving the clipboard one more look over, probably looking for which package number was being delivered here. The larger man's lone eye met with his- the other was covered by messy brown locks- and he shrugged, opening his door with the force required to wrench the damn thing open due to the years of rust build up. Ichigo blew out a puff of air, reaching down to his right to press the button that would unlock the truck doors. He heard Chad's footsteps thump through the back, before there was a knock on the window that separated the front seats and the back of the truck. Ichigo reached back and unlocked the hatch, opening the slot with confusion. Maybe Chad forgotten the ID number?

"It's the big box I couldn't lift earlier," Chad mumbled, his body hunched over, "I need your help."

Ichigo nodded, pulling the stick mounted near the dashboard into park before he exited the vehicle, walking to the back and up the ramp to find Chad who had his hands on his hips. The redhead huffed and pretended to roll up imaginary sleeves which earned him a chuckle from Chad before the two lifted the hefty box, inching their way to the entrance. Ichigo wanted to drop the box and say 'fuck it' when they reached the large staircase, which was the only way up to the fancy looking double doors, but with Chad still pushing the box forward Ichigo had no choice but to back up onto the stairs. They nearly dropped the box a few times, but arrived at the top of the stairs without incident. Once the box was safely on the ground, Ichigo rung the doorbell, looking over to Chad who was patting his pockets.

Sensing eyes on him, Chad muttered,"I forgot the E-Signature pad. I'll be right back." then turned to jog back to the truck. Ichigo watched him go, then turned his eyes in front of him when he heard the lock of the door unlatch, revealing a familiar head of blue locks and equally blue, narrowed eyes. Ichigo's face scrunched with confusion for what felt like the thousandth time today, though it didn't last long. Realization crashed over him like an ocean wave during a storm, and he jumped back, shocked.

"Y-You-?!"

 **-o0o0o-**

Everything was going according to plan so far. Grimmjow had arrived at home and ignored the servants as they greeted him cheerily as usual, taking a different route to his room in order to avoid his parents. A few of the maids tried to stop him, presumably worried about the blood coating the back of his head, though he brushed them off like leaves. He entered his room and stripped, having a particularly difficult time peeling the shirt off of his body. It was stuck to the back of his neck due to the blood, and the slightest movement to his neck and shoulders made them burn. Grimmjow got the blasted thing off and flung it across his room, then proceeded to shower, and throw on a new outfit. His ensemble was made up of a dark, plain T-shirt, light blue jeans and a pair of dark gray, Jordan Retro 12's. He replaced the watch- thank god it hadn't been cracked in the accident, he would never hear the end of it from his mother- with a limited edition, Timex + Redwing 40mm watch; which was more his style. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, brushing imaginary dust off his thighs, a scowl creasing his brow at the various scrapes and scuffs. He supposed he should tell his father what happened to the Koenigsegg, though he could just order a replica and it would be shipped to him before the man even had a chance to inquire what happened to the vehicle.

Ah, but then there was the whole college shit. Grimmjow pondered this momentarily before he remembered the new addition to their endless staff of servants. This newbie was particularly fond of him, and would do anything to please Grimmjow, including going against direct orders from his father. Grimmjow couldn't remember his name for the life of him, though he was sure it started with a D. D-something. It didn't matter. He'd summon the boy later and order that he go enlist Grimmjow in the college, case closed.

With that taken care of, Grimmjow left the room, making a detour to the rack with his endless supply of keys where he plucked one from its hook- of course he noticed the empty hook where the keys of his beloved Koenigsegg used to hang- before he was off once again.

This time around, the car he selected was the Bugatti Chiron. It was an alright car, though nothing could ever beat his precious Koenigsegg. It was a bright red, and at the end of the drivers door rather than being smooth, it was curved like a 'C' and stuck out more than the front, from there to the rear instead of the cherry hue it was a sleek black. The Koenigsegg and Bugatti were both sports cars, though the Bugatti had been a gift from a distant relative from his father's side, so the interior wasn't custom. The seats were a sandy, reddish tan, and the engine was just as powerful as his baby. Grimmjow slid into the seat which was tilted back considerably, pressing the button nestled inside the wheel to start the car.

Like before, Grimmjow left the garage, though this time around his destination was different. He headed to Yylfordt's home, picking up the energetic blond before heading back to his place. Yylfordt chattered noisily the whole ride, talking about his day and how tired he was, even going as far to say Grimmjow was lucky he had agreed to their meet up. True, Yylfordt was mostly nocturnal due to his job as a stripper, but he was the one that was always eager to please Grimmjow.

Grimmjow grunted and scoffed when asked questions, and the man took it in stride, keeping the one sided conversation going. They arrived at Grimmjow's large mansion, and the billionaire proceeded to make his way back up the large stairs, keeping his pace brisk as to avoid any unwanted conversations. The blond followed of course, mentioning a few times Grimmjow walked too fast, but who cared. Whether Yylfordt knew it or not, he was there for one purpose. To boost Grimmjow's ego and provide a hole for the young man to shove his dick into. They weren't even two feet into his room before Grimmjow attacked Yylfordt, shoving him against the door and pressing his face into the thinner man's neck, where he began to suck and bite roughly. Yylfordt was moaning in no time, his voice bordering whining, which made Grimmjow want to wince. Normally he could tune out the man's voice, though this time around he found himself… wishing it was deeper. Shit, had Yylfordt always been this thin? Did the guy even eat? Maybe if he had more meat on his bones…

They ended up on the bed, somehow, tangled in long limbs before Grimmjow was ripping off the blonds clothes and shoving his face into the mattress. He didn't bother with his own clothing, instead just unzipping his pants and pulling his length out, stroking it a few times to make it harden, because apparently he wasn't at that point yet. It was strange- he felt himself craving more, though Yylfordt was usually enough to at least satisfy his hunger for a small while. What was different? Those delicate, porcelain hips raised before him, cheeks spread to reveal everything the man had to offer, hands gripping at the sheets. It was a fine view, but something in the back of his head was giggling, whispering it wasn't _. Messing with him._

Grimmjow grabbed a handful of silky blond locks, pulling Yylfordt up and against his chest. "I want you to ride me." He growled into Yylfordt's ear, shoving the man away when he received a small nod and breathy moan in response. Grimmjow then lowered himself onto the bed, piling some pillows behind him before he rested on them, soothing his aching shoulders and neck. Yylfordt crawled on top of him, hands going to lift Grimmjow's shirt though the man stopped him, capturing his thin wrists. Yylfordt bit his lip but complied, holding his hand out expectantly. Grimmjow dug in his pocket for the condoms he always kept there, pulling one out to hand to Yylfordt, who then lowered himself to Grimmjow's arousal, pumping the heated flesh a few times before he rolled the plastic condom on and slid back up Grimmjow's body, gripping the man's dick. Yylfordt sighed as he rubbed himself against Grimmjow, slowly lowering himself down inch by inch. Grimmjow didn't like slow.

Grimmjow growled and thrusted forward, a surprised cry sounding above him when he sheathed himself inside Yylfordt, however that moan melted into a keening, nearly a high pitched whine; drawing out long enough to make Grimmjow's ears want to bleed. Yylfordt was loose enough, so he didn't bother feeling any sympathy for not prepping him before hand. He closed his eyes and began to thrust, hands going to those thin hips to hold them in place when they rocked against him. Soon enough, Grimmjow felt himself nearing his climax, dilated ocean blue eyes cracking open only to lock with- _brown._

 _Yylfordt's eyes were… red. So why was he seeing… brown?_

Perplexed, Grimmjow's eyes flew open, blinking several times to clear his vision. When that didn't work, he released Yylfordt's hip to rub the sweat from his eyes, only to be taken back again. When the appendage left his face, bright, candy corn locks adorned Yylfordt's head, which made his jaw drop. Grimmjow's hips stopped, which tore a frustrated groan from peach, plump lips. Oh, he remembered those- the bus driver had been chewing them raw, the sore and abused flesh tinted a strawberry red. Grimmjow jerked when Yylfordt started pushing and rising on his dick, over and over again, eliciting a groan from him. His hands returned to Yylf- the _stranger's_ hips. He even felt his cheeks burn, flushed because _fuck,_ those eyes made him so fucking _aroused_.

"Hahh…! You like that.. Ha…" Yylfordt's mewl snapped Grimmjow out of his fantasy, the blue haired man scowling as he sat up, his neck screaming profanities at him which he ignored as one of his hands covered the troublesome blond's mouth. "Shut the fuck up, Yylfordt." Grimmjow groused, resuming his previous pace. He pounded into the blond, paying no mind to the pleading whimpers and soft bites to his fingers. Grimmjow's release came first, a shuddering gasp managing to escape gritted teeth. If the long, broken moan from Yylfordt was any clue, the man seemed to have came as well. Taking a moment to gather himself, Grimmjow sighed and pulled his softening erection free, refusing to cringe at the noise the blond made. This was the part where he'd chuckle and give Yylfordt's ass a slap because the man hated it when he did that, especially after sex, though he couldn't bring himself to do so. A flash of orange made him shake his head, inwardly scolding himself.

Grimmjow peeled the condom off and threw it on the bed, tucking his dick away before he rose from the bed, practically dumping Yylfordt out of his lap as he left the room. Yylfordt didn't question him, instead sprawling out on the sheets and sighing with content, unaware of Grimmjow's inner turmoil. The blue haired man walked in long strides and shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking hard about what he'd seen. It was obvious his body was craving what he couldn't have. Well, getting that boy to submit to him would definitely take some work, though it was honestly a turn off that the Ginger wasn't into him. His charms were enough to make someone drool, and most succumbed to his arrogant aura, but this guy had flat out refused to be swayed.

" _Guess you're shit outta luck, huh? Beat it, kid."_

Though it wasn't necessarily relevant to the redhead, Grimmjow remembered the words the bald bus driver had spat at him earlier. It was quite humorous though, because it was almost as if his head chose this time to repeat these words in some kind of twisted form of advice, telling him he needed to let the sexy spitfire go and move on. Grimmjow retrieved his phone from his pocket and looked up the bus service number, sucking his teeth when an automatic voice chirped back at him once he'd made the call, stating that a human representative would be with him shortly. The billionaire let his feet lead him, wandering through the endless halls of the mansion, the occasional robotic female voice talking over the terrible hold music to remind him that he would be answered momentarily.

Thinking to himself, the idea of fucking someone with similar vibrant hair as the bus driver to get him out of his head was tempting. He could call up Rangiku- she had orangish hair. No, she was more of a blond. Well, there was that bartender at Kageyoshi, her hair was close enough to orange, and if Grimmjow remembered correctly she had brown eyes. Maybe if he fucked her he'd be over that stupid bus driver.

Without realizing it, Grimmjow ended up at the front door, the large doors looming far past him and stretching near the high ceilings. Seriously, why did they need doors this huge? It made no sense, it wasn't like they would have a giant as a guest. He barely noticed a female voice that interrupted the elevator like music, this voice sounding more human and higher pitched if that was possible.

"Hello, thank you for waiting! My name is-!"

"Yeah, whatever. I'm callin' to put in a review about one of your drivers," He paused, chewing on the inside of his mouth, remembering the bald man's name clear as day.

"Oh, yes, of course-! Ah, what is your name, sir?" Jeez, she sounded so nervous and annoying. Grimmjow rubbed his temple, walking towards a vast painting displayed on the wall left of the stairs he'd just descended.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

"Ah, right! Ok, how did you enjoy your ride, Mr. _Jagajakku_?"

" _Jaegerjaquez_. Actually, I'd like to speak to one of your supervisors. It isn't exactly a good review, and I believe I'm wasting my time speaking to a mere _representative_."

"...Oh, uhm… yes, sir." There was a small click, and the music from before began to play once more. Grimmjow wanted to snicker, knowing he'd hurt the bitch's feelings, but of course he couldn't bring himself to care. He reached up, dragging a finger against the golden frame of the painting, critical eyes scrutinizing the appendage which of course had not a speck of dust on it. A cheery, masculine voice that made him want to cringe burst into his ear, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Hellooo! This is Urahara Kisuke speaking, how may I help you?" Grimmjow rolled his eyes, but kept his voice even, knowing he couldn't boss this guy around as much as he had with the woman.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, son of the Jaegerjaquez family, heir to Jaegerjaquez Inc., earlier today I had a bit of an unpleasant experience with one of your drivers." The supervisor whistled and hummed quietly, waiting a moment as if he expected Grimmjow to continue, before he spoke.

"Ah, yes, I am familiar with that name. Can you tell me the name of the driver and what happened?"

Grimmjow used his superior voice, one he only used when he was addressing people below him. It was one of the things he was glad his father had taught him, because when you could talk in an intimidating way without sounding vulgar or using profanity, it gave you more power over the person you were talking to. "Madarame, his first name was not on his nametag. He turned me away when I had incorrect change for the bus in a crude way, and I am very displeased with his customer service skills. Due to unfortunate events, I was forced to take the bus, and the service I received has led me to the conclusion that if the drivers are terrible, there must _certainly_ be problems with the higher ups. Am I right- Urahara, you said?"

"I can assure you everything is in order, Mr. Jaegerjaquez. I will take care of Madarame, so long as this stays between us. Does that sound like a deal?" Just as Grimmjow had predicted, a few strategically placed words turned this man against his own employee, and Grimmjow couldn't be more pleased. He grinned, chuckling airly.

"Yes, that sounds like a deal. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Urahara." With that, he hung up, not waiting for the others response. Just as he was going to turn away, the doorbell rang, chiming and echoing throughout the foyer. Grimmjow looked to his left and right, then down at himself. His pants were unbuttoned, shirt rumpled and a stain near his left pectoral that was probably semen. His father would probably have a fit if he answered the door in his current state and it happened to be one of his business partners, anyway there should have been a servant posted at the door, but there wasn't. Grimmjow waited for someone to rush forward and answer the door, though said person never came. He supposed it would be worth embarrassing his father, though he shouldn't be doing a job these low-lives got paid to do. With an irritated sigh, Grimmjow stepped forward and unlocked the gigantic door, pulling it open.

What awaited him across the threshold almost made him lose his composure.

Slightly astonished azure met utterly shocked copper, the two staring at each other for what seemed like eternity, before the spell was broken by a surprised cry from the redhead. Grimmjow felt his lip twitch when the bus driver jumped back, an accusing finger pointing in his direction. Though when he looked closer, the spiteful man wasn't wearing his former attire of a blue short sleeved button up and dark navy pants, but a pair of cargo shorts and a white T-shirt that read 'Unagiya Deliveries'. Huh. Grimmjow let the thought pass, tuning in on the conversation going on in front of him. A very tall, muscular dark skinned man who had appeared out of nowhere was talking to the redhead, reprimanding him for his actions in a quiet, stern voice.

"-higo, you know Ikumi would have your head if she saw you acting like this to customers."

"But he's-!"

" _Ichigo_."

Grimmjow thought he'd missed it, but luckily the other man repeated the name of the bus driver- delivery boy? _Ichigo_. He suppressed the grin that wanted to creep onto his lips, concluding the name did fit the man.

"Sir, could you please sign for this?" A rumbling voice interrupted his thoughts, blue eyes flashing between the men before he nodded, taking the pad that was given to him and signing his name with the pen that was attached to it by a thin wire. The burly man took the pad once he was done, thanking him quietly and mumbling something about where he wanted the package. Grimmjow hummed to himself, his eyes drifting to the delive- _Ichigo_. The redhead was standing off to the side, arms crossed, expression absolutely sour. How amusing, Grimmjow thought, wondering how the gentle giant had silenced the spitfire with just a few well placed words.

Remembering he'd been asked a question, Grimmjow replied, not taking his eyes off Ichigo."Hn. You can bring it into the foyer, near the stairs." The larger man nodded, nudging Ichigo, who looked up, meeting Grimmjow's eyes. Ichigo grumbled to himself, stepping forward to grab the back of the box, the brown haired man grabbing the front. They heaved the package into the air, moving in sync to the area Grimmjow had instructed them to. When Ichigo passed him, Grimmjow stared intently at the man's face, hoping to make eye contact. Though the redhead seemed to be ignoring him, his eyes instead taking in the large interior, looking overwhelmed. It wasn't like he'd even done anything bad to the guy. Shit, he was acting like he murdered his fucking dog and made a coat out of its fur. What made this… _lowlife_ despise him so much?

 **-o0o0o-**

There was a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, placed between the two steep, curved staircases that were connected to a balcony, which seemed to lead to more rooms and another set of stairs. The floor was a smooth, ivory stone, and the stairs were the same color, and so were the walls and most of the decor in the room. The only source of color was the occasional pot of roses and the elegant, royal dark blue rug that stretched far down the halls. It seemed so… vacant. Bare- as if this place was just on display like a museum and it wasn't occupied by anyone.

The two men placed the box onto the ground gently, Chad quickly turning to walk back towards the entrance, while Ichigo lingered, completely captivated by the grand foyer. It was a masterpiece, from the details engraved in the pillars embedded into the walls to the threads of the rug beneath his feet, everything had a place. The expensive looking paintings hanging on the walls were probably worth more money than Ichigo had ever seen in his life, and just that thought made him nauseous.

Pushing aside those thoughts, Ichigo rounded on his heel and headed in the direction Chad had gone, watching as his friend bowed slightly and thanked the blue-haired man for his business. The man nodded and muttered something, his eyes lidded- looking bored almost. But when those cerulean orbs shifted to Ichigo, they became more aware, more _alive_. Now that Ichigo was actually looking at the man, his appearance seemed disheveled, as if he'd just crawled out of bed from- _oh_. Ok. The suspicious white but nearly translucent stain on his shirt was the only clue Ichigo needed. Not to mention his pants were unbuttoned- this guy didn't even look like he belonged in this extravagant house. Ichigo tore his eyes away as he slid past the tall man, bowing briefly before he was chasing after Chad who was already climbing into the truck.

Ichigo tried not to look back, but that chilly feeling you get when someone's looking at you made him turn his head ever so slightly, catching the blue-haired man glaring at him. This made Ichigo stop in his tracks, a bewildered expression overtaking his face. The sly looks the stranger had been giving him earlier were suddenly a thing of the past- instead replaced by what seemed to be pure annoyance and disapproval.

He felt like a cornered animal, and usually he had something snarky to throw back because when he elt threatened, Ichigo fought back with all his strength. But for Ikumi's sake, he couldn't say anything. Remembering what he had been warned about, if what Madarame said was true, one wrong look and this guy made it his mission to destroy everything you worked hard to accomplish. Ikumi couldn't take a blow from someone with a high ranking social status like this man, and if biting his tongue meant she would be safe, Ichigo would do so.

Ichigo tried his hardest to calm himself, but he could feel his jaw twitching, teeth grinding together at the mere thought of backing down against the blue haired man. It wasn't about how arrogant and pig-headed this guy had acted, but how he truly believed he could do anything and get away with it without consequences. Ichigo could only glare back, offended that this guy thought he had any reason to hate Ichigo right now. Maybe his ego had deflated because Ichigo wasn't interested in him, regardless, that wasn't _his_ fault.

Chad called him, raising his voice slightly though not loud enough to count as a shout. Ichigo narrowed his eyes before he turned away, jogging back to the truck. This had been a mere coincidence, and hopefully this would be the last time Ichigo saw this guy.

The redhead slumped in his seat and pulled the stick into drive, continuing to drive along the white stoned driveway until he was out in the street once more. It was quiet, Chad's music still playing softly. Speaking of Chad, he reached over and turned off the radio, letting that hand drop against his right thigh.

"Did you know that guy, Ichigo?"

Ichigo remembered he'd wanted to talk to Chad about this earlier, but now the wound was fresh and he didn't want to expand on the subject.

"Why, are you jealous, love? You know I'd never cheat on you." Ichigo chuckled, voice dripping with sarcasm. Chad turned his head, expression serious.

"Ichigo."

The redhead pouted, letting his chin fall into his palm. "Hn. Remember that guy I was talkin' about earlier? I couldn't remember his name because it's so damn complicated. But that guy- that was him." Ichigo's eyes remained fixated on the road, waiting for a response from Chad. The man reached up to scratch at his bearded chin, grabbing the clipboard with his free hand.

"Hm… Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez? I don't think I've heard of that name."

"See! Madarame was just bein' dramatic! He said he was some big shot-!" But then Ichigo paused. The mansion they'd just left was indeed extravagant and it was obvious anyone who lived in the place was definitely loaded. So maybe he really was…

"Shit… You don't think he really…"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, son of Conroy and Ada Jaegerjaquez, the only heir to Jaegerjaquez Inc., a family made and run business." Chad's voice was even and smooth as he read off the first thing he found on his phone when he searched up the man's name, surprised that Google had articles on him. At the next stoplight, Ichigo broke the silence, turning widened eyes on his friend.

"Madarame said he has a bad reputation…"

"For 'ruining people's careers'?" Chad finished Ichigo's sentence, continuing to scroll on his phone. Ichigo blinked, reading the headline displayed at the very top of the article Chad was reading.

"' _Eight Reporters Fired For Taking Photo's of Jaegerjaquez Without His Permission_ '? What the hell?" Ichigo mumbled, turning away when the light signaled for him to drive.

"It says, ' _there was a group of reporters that were at a movie premiere taking photo's of the celebrities walking the red carpet, and Jaegerjaquez got them fired because he didn't want any photos taken of him, even though there were other reporters on scene. Many are led to believe he got these specific reporters fired because he didn't like the way they looked at him_ '."

"Jesus- are you kidding me?" Ichigo muttered in disbelief, completely shocked that this guy would seriously go this far as to do something so petty. Chad only nodded, placing his phone in his lap. "Well, guess I'm screwed, huh, Chad?"

"Don't think negative, Ichigo." Chad muttered comfortingly, one of his large hands patting Ichigo's stiff shoulders. "You still up for rounds at Kageyoshi later?" Ichigo looked at Chad briefly, a small smile on his lips. It may already be too late to save his career, but Chad was right. Worrying about it would only put more stress onto his plate. Turning back to the road, Ichigo breathed in deeply.

"Thanks, Chad."


End file.
